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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26384008">Until Our Compass Stands Still</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariposa4/pseuds/mariposa4'>mariposa4</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>there's so much worth fighting for (you'll see) [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A tiny bit of suicide ideation, BAMF Amelia Bones, BAMF Hermione Granger, Fuck JKR, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Ron Weasley is Our King, Stay safe my guys, Trans Amelia Bones, Trans Character, Trans Harry Potter, Trans Hermione Granger, Trans Ron Weasley, a bit of poetry because i cannot write a fic without it, because im a simp for badass characters, fuck terfs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:55:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,209</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26384008</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariposa4/pseuds/mariposa4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: ways the canon story would change with trans masc!harry &amp; ron and trans fem!hermione or maybe just some hurt/comfort would be so amazing ahdhshsg 🥺</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger &amp; Harry Potter &amp; Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter/Ron Weasley (future), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>there's so much worth fighting for (you'll see) [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Trans Fiction ⚧</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Until Our Compass Stands Still</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/trans_positivity_fiction">trans_positivity_fiction</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Let me tell you a story. Of grief and love. Of dragons and knights, queens and kings. We all have a dragon to defeat, and you can either fight it, hide from it, or befriend it. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>I knew I was a boy. The problem was, others around me didn’t. I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Tired of wearing Aunt Petunia’s frilly skirts and flowery dresses. Tired of the expectations to be a girl. When the staircase to the girl’s dorms refused to let me up, I smiled. I wasn’t the Girl-Who-Lived or the Boy-Who-Lived. I was just Harry and I would thrive, no matter the mark on my forehead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I refuse to be the knight in shining armor, the figurehead. I am simply Harry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ron knew he was a boy. In another universe, he was born that way and had also acquired a sister. In this, he had to cater to all of Molly’s desires for feminine clothes, dressing up. Charlie understood him and treated him just like his brothers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione knew she was a girl. She had informed her parents as soon as she could to that fact, and they helped her transition. She picked Hermione after Helen of Troy’s daughter, hoping that she could have descended from Helen herself, of finally being </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span>. In the meantime, she would get top marks and continue to learn. Knowledge was power, after all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her chipped nail polish and curly, curly, curly hair was who she was. Nevermind any straightening potions or skin whitening. Hermione was powerful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gryffindor was no debate for her. She had proven her bravery young.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry Potter did not see the power of Voldemort. For he only saw a narrative of power, not kindness or love or anything else that Ron and Hermione had shown Harry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After the defeat of Quirrel, we sat together on the Hogwarts express. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could stay over at my house,” Hermione suggested. “There has to be a way for you to escape the Dursleys.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When the diary came to Hogwarts, it took Susan Bones. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Susan Bones, who had always used the right pronouns for Harry and Ron. Who had offered solutions for a magical transition, for her aunt had gone through the struggle of dysphoria and discrimination and no one could say she was weak. Amelia Bones, a trans woman, was head of the DMLE. This was nothing like the muggle world. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hope is a powerful thing, and Susan Bones had unknowingly given it to the trio. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Before the summer of third year, instead of running to the Leaky Cauldron, Harry went to Hermione’s house. In it, her parents welcomed Harry with open arms. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When Harry got his period for the first time, Hermione was there, with chocolate and a hot pad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll never have one, but my mom tells me it’s terrible.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry thanked her and thought about the magical transitions that Susan had told him about. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>At the end of third year, Susan had made it into the shrieking shack with Ron and Harry and Hermione and listened to Sirius’s story. They were on the bed, terrified and betrayed with a traitor in their midst. Susan wrote to her aunt, and justice was served. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After Albus Dumbledore tried to send him back to the Dursleys, Harry said no. He had a godfather and a sort of step-godfather with Remus too. They were going to be okay. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The world is not a soft place. Never be fooled into thinking that it is a soft place. But, between the cracks, there is love. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>She was soft blankets and flower petals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>People forgot she could strangle and stab. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>I want something wholesome. A little bit of sunshine on a picnic blanket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You see? We have stories. We’ve been hurt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And I want to view my life through a lavender-colored lense,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Making everything soft and detached.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred and George laughing about a prank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flying on a broom with Ron. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s time to be at peace now, but things still haunt me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Children can be so mean, and nobody does anything. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m tired of being the hero. I’m tired of that melancholy listlessness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I never thought I’d live to be 14, and here I am. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still standing. Still hoping. Still trying to figure myself out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I didn’t have my mom buy me a yearbook because I thought I’d be dead by then. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes I want to tear my skin off until I can finally find the person I’m supposed to look like. Sifting through skin, muscle, bones until I can make myself anew. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The issue is that we all look the same after we start to tear things off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Goddamnit. I want to look like me. I don’t want to flinch away from the mirror. I don’t want to hide in the girl’s bathroom, waiting for other people to leave. I don’t want to be smiled at condescendingly in the mirror from an old white lady. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe I want to paint my nails blue. Maybe I want to grow my hair out a bit longer. Maybe I want to wear a crop top. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I want to be the glue, the weed in the crack of the pavement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’d fancy living as one of those thousand-year-old trees, high in the mountains. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Life is so much effort to live. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m still fighting to be alive and sometimes I don’t know what the point is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I want something soft. Coordinating clothes and lip gloss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I get nightmares about growing my hair long. I can’t cut it off, and I look like a girl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I just suddenly have long hair, something like a mullet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For some reason, it grows as long as Hermione’s the more I try to hide it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yesterday I cried because someone called me ma’am. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was trying so hard to explain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, that’s not my name, will never be my name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harriet hangs like a banner over my passport. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can’t change it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry’s never felt so right. When Ron says it fondly, Hermione in exasperation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blaise calls me Hadrian so I’ll have a name “like a proper pureblood,” albeit jokingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Would my parents accept me for who I am? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One time I put on an old dress to see what I looked like. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked like a boy in a dress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made my day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I chose this name because it meant something. My kingdom is as great. Perhaps even greater.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As to why William Golding put only boys in Lord of the Flies, he answered: “Women are foolish to pretend they are equal to men. They are far superior and always have been.” I can see that now, the way the whole school turns on Harry in an instant. How Ron, sweet, lovely Ron, turned on Harry. We must unite between her walls or we’ll crumble from within. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s some part of me that still thinks that I will never fit in. I’ll be a stranger in my body, with thick leg hair and a beard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes I can still see the stranger in the mirror. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then Harry will come in, or Ron, or Ginny, or Fred and George. And I know that I’m not.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>We’ll be just fine. It’s only a matter of time until our compass stands still. ‘Till our compass stands still. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>it's been like 2 weeks since i posted this and thank you so much for all the support!! your comments and kudos make my day! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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